Pomona: As I am the goddess of fruits, you almost persuade me. I hear the far-off hunter’s horn, I feel the spell of Hallowe’en, but no—I am not easily won.
[Vertumnus now goes out and re-enters as old woman winter, he wears a long cape with hood.]
Vertumnus: Have you heard the news? You must surely know. They say, and they say, and they say. Oh, yes, I look like old winter with my frosty fingers, but see, I bring Christmas and sleighing and good times and gossip. Ha, ha! Oh, yes, I pay quite a fortune for shoes, for I travel so far to carry the news.
Witch [over the screen]:
Gossip now is going to win her,
Keep at it whatever you do;
Gossip, like a hardened sinner,
Stands you in good stead ’tis true.
Gossip about whatever you choose,
Drop a word here and there to carry the news;